Lonesome Folly
by Shruika
Summary: Lavi remembers his life before Bookman found him but cannot wholey leave his self from that time behind...


_Lavi – Rabi _

Gazing up into the sky  
I see nothing but grey  
Looking for shelter from the rain  
Which now starts pouring down heavily  
I run down the streets  
People pass by, shadows over their heads  
No-one notices me  
I run and turn around the corner  
Of the shop where sometimes  
Some old man plays chess with me  
But the doors are closed  
The windows shut  
And as I knock against the door  
I realise he's not gonna open  
My gaze drifts from the wall down  
Down to the wet ground beneath my feet  
Raindrops pond  
It's a constant patter  
Quite annoying, quite damnable  
For it keeps me from straying around like usually  
Unless I want to get sick  
I start to run again  
Me feet let the water sputter  
And cold drops wet my bare legs  
With every step further  
As I arrive at the library  
It's closed as well  
But I don't care  
Since its roof overshadows some square metres of the footpath  
Whilst standing under it  
I feel my damp hair partly sticking to my forehead and temples  
I rubb my eyes  
My whole face feels as if dipped into a cold water bowl  
My eyes burn  
My stomach does, too  
I hate it  
I hate it, I hate it  
This feeling of weakness, of being at someone's mercy  
It's disgusting  
The rain doesn't bother though  
It just goes on and on  
Falls on and on  
Not minding me there or anywhere  
Not that anybody else would mind me  
But that's okay for I don't mind anyone either myself  
Don't concern myself with people as long as I can avoid it  
'Course, there are moments you have but to rely on others  
When you need a third hand  
Or in my case, a second eye  
The looks they give me when they actually do notice me  
Are curious and at the same time disgusted  
They want to know what's under the eye-patch that partly covers the right side of my face  
And at the same time imagine a horrible, ugly wound  
They feel as if it was contagious  
And in most cases keep their distance all on their own  
But I don't mind  
I don't need them  
And if I do  
I know how to please them, ho to be nice, to be helpful  
How to play over the mysterious eye-patch  
How to charm them with my looks and wonderful speech  
If they ignore my obvious flaw, they love my colourful hair and face and even my lank body  
The rain doesn't subside  
Red strands of hair are sticking to my neck, falling dripping over my one green eye  
I take a step forward  
Into the rain again  
I look up into the grey, distant, indifferent sky  
And I cry

…

Jiji said, he'd found me unconcious on the streets  
I don't remember where  
I don't even remember the town's name  
Or what I've wanted in front of a closed library  
But after the night he found me in that no-man's land  
I wasn't able to forget ever again  
I've always had a photographic memory  
But hunger and other unpleasant things had always been able to overshadow this skill  
Not anymore, though  
He teached me a special technique which enables us to file memories  
So that the memories won't wholey consume our selves  
Won't influence us  
Jiji said, I never looked back or spoke about my time before he found me  
And that all the things he knows about me  
Are things he knows as the Bookman  
He also says, it's good that I don't cry  
It's good that I am indifferent to the things around me  
To the people  
To the world in general  
If he knew that sometimes when it rains  
I notice a strange feeling  
Stabbing the heart in my chest I'm supposed to have given up on anyway  
If he knew that in those moments I feel such a pain that I wished I could cry  
Would he abandon me?  
Would Jiji leave me behind, taking with him the only goal I ever had in my life?  
Becoming his successor as a Bookman?  
I'd like to hope he wouldn't  
But I also do know, he would

…

It's raining  
I'm sitting in the room I'm sharing with Jiji in the Black Order  
It won't be forerve though, we never stay at one place for too long  
Staring into the mirror  
The old me is staring back  
Grown like I am but still the same hungry, ragged and weird child  
That I had been until Jiji found me  
My old self stares back at me and smiles  
And whilst it does so  
Tears are running down the left unhealthy white cheek  
I avert my gaze from that old personality which has nothing in common with me anymore  
Direct it at the rain splattered, high arched window  
Someone inside myself, inside my countless memories, cries  
Like a hurt animal  
Like a forlorn child  
Like a forsaken boy  
The door kreaks ever so slightly and Jiji enters  
Don't ponder about things of the past, he says, and lights some candles  
It's pitch-black until the small flames illuminate part of the book-stuffed room  
I'm not, I answer, partly still hypnotised by the constant rain dropping  
Not turning towards him  
Not even as he approaches, worried that his aprrentice might make fun of him  
Yes, you are, he states after several minutes in which he's only looked at me  
With cautious, observing eyes  
Don't forget who you are now, Lavi  
His voice seems to be very close to me and yet so far away  
Don't forget that those days when you were crying are long gone now and utterly insignificant  
I don't cry, I say  
Yes, you do, he states and quietly walks out of the room  
To leave me alone


End file.
